Frou-Frou
by Reinamy
Summary: Levi's new neighbor is eye-catching in more ways than one. Ereri, Modern AU.


**Pairing:** Levi/Eren

 **Warnings:** PG-13, modern AU, language, explicit homophobia, background poly pairing, etc.

 **Disclaimer:** This is non-profitable fan work. No copyright infringement intended.

 **Author's Note:** Because the world needs more pastel!Eren, that's why.

Happy reading, everyone!

* * *

 **XXX**

* * *

"Levi!"

"I'm coming, woman!" Levi calls from the other room. He nabs his iPod from the couch and follows the sound of his mother's impatient foot tapping to the foyer.

"Finally," Kuchel says, ushering him out of the door and locking it behind them.

Levi rolls his eyes at her. They're going grocery shopping for fuck's sake, so what's the rush? He opens his mouth to tell her just that when he hears a heavy crash to his right and cranes his head. There are people in Mr. Li's yard. _Not Mr. Li's yard anymore_ , he reminds himself, remembering that the nosy old man had died some weeks prior. He hasn't heard anything about anyone else moving in, though.

Kuchel pauses, too, and says, "Ah, I forgot they were moving in today."

Levi tears his eyes away from the moving truck and towards his mom, who's rummaging through her purse for the car keys. It's a shitty habit that's going to get her into trouble one day, but Levi refrains from telling her so. At least today.

"Who?"

"Carla Jaeger and her teenaged son and daughter, if I remember correctly. I met the mother when she was scoping out the property a few weeks back. Wanted to know what the neighborhood was like and so on. She seemed nice enough."

"And you're only telling me about this _now_?"

"You were spending the weekend at your friend's house when it happened, Levi. By the time you got back I'd already forgotten about it—ah-ha! Found 'em."

Levi snorts and pulls the door to the passenger side open the second the car beeps. He slides inside and promptly turns the AC on. It's hot as hell.

"Seatbelt, Levi."

Levi refrains from rolling his eyes again and does what he's told. His eyes slide towards Mr. Li's yard as his mom settles herself, his gaze settling briefly on the uniformed movers before moving on. An older woman is pacing in front of the house, speaking angrily to no one. It takes him a while to notice the Bluetooth headphone poking out of her left ear. He watches her for a moment, but when that's all she does he looks away. A flash of bright pink enters the corner of vision and he chases it, but it disappears into the house before he can get a good look.

 _Must be the daughter mom mentioned_ , Levi thinks, but doesn't get a chance to find out because they pull out of the driveway soon after, putting the house behind them.

"Maybe I should cook them something as a housewarming gift," Kuchel muses, adjusting the rearview mirror.

Levi rests his head against the window and snorts.

"Don't. They'll think you're trying to run them out."

Kuchel swats him. "You little shit," she says, grudgingly fond.

Levi pulls his lip ring between his teeth to hide his grin.

* * *

 **XXX**

* * *

"Thanks, come again," the cashier says, and Levi grunts in response and pockets his change before grabbing his bag and leaving the convenience store.

It's dark. The last vestiges of sunlight had vanished in the twenty minutes he'd spent picking out ingredients for tomorrow's dinner, and the moon is nowhere in sight. Only the radiance of the street lights and apartment windows keeps the area from being pitch black. Levi loves it. He pats his left pocket just to feel the outline of his phone and switchblade then begins his long trek home.

Barely five minutes pass when he hears a commotion up ahead. He considers ignoring it, but the sound of raised voices, followed by what sounds a lot like shattering glass, prompts him forward despite himself. Levi pulls his switchblade out and flicks it open—because even though this part of town has a relatively low crime rate shit still happens, and contrary to current appearances Levi isn't _actually_ stupid—and cautiously edges toward the mouth of the alley.

A lamppost stands directly behind him, and that's the only reason he can make out the three figures in the crack between the two buildings—one backed against a brick wall, the other two keeping him there. The one being cornered is definitely a guy; he's tall for one thing, and large in the way girls rarely are. If there'd been only one assailant Levi probably would have just called the cops and left them to it, but that isn't the case. He's being ganged up on by two huge fucks, one of whom looks like he's carrying a blade, and Levi might be an asshole but he isn't _this much_ of one, okay.

 _I'd better get a shitload of karma points for this,_ Levi tells the universe and as quietly as he can, sets his bag down. He's barely taken three steps forward when the word " _Faggot_ ," hits his ears and he freezes, blood turning to ice in his veins.

This is a hate crime.

Of all things, he's witnessing a fucking _hate crime_.

"You just had to say the _F_ word, didn't you?" the guy being cornered says, and Levi falters once more, a shiver of _something_ shooting down his spine at the enraged _violence_ in his tone, and then freezes altogether when the guy drives his fist into one thug's face so hard Levi _swears_ he hears teeth shatter.

The fight is as quick as it is brutal. Within moments both thugs are heaps on the pavement, one groaning wretchedly and the other eerily silent. The one who's noticeably alive _screams_ when their "victim"—and Levi uses that term very, _very_ lightly—fucking _steps on top of him_ on his way out of the alley. Levi's feet feel cemented to the ground as he approaches, features growing less vague with every step he takes towards the light.

Soon he's at the mouth of the alley and honestly, it's all Levi can do to stare.

It's the Jaeger kid.

Levi has only seen him a handful of times before, and only fleetingly. The only thing he knows about him is that he's around Levi's age and that he really seems to like the color pink.

Though maybe it's pastel colors in general because he's not wearing a single pink item today, unless one counts the smear of blood on his knuckles, which Levi personally doesn't.

Also, he's sucking on a goddamn lollipop.

What the actual fuck.

The guy's bright, bright eyes sweep over him, resting on his right hand, and it takes Levi a moment to realize he's still holding his unsheathed blade. Slowly he flips it shut and pockets it, eyes never straying from his neighbor.

"Levi, isn't it?" the guy says conversationally, as if he didn't just beat the shit out of two colossal fucks without so much as breaking a sweat.

A too-familiar heat coils in his stomach. "Y-yeah."

"I'm Eren." He extends his hand to shake, realizes it's covered in blood, and then wrinkles his nose in disgust and offers the other one.

Levi swallows and shakes it.

"Hey, so do you mind if we keep this between ourselves?" Eren asks, pulling away. "Because my mom's definitely gonna ground me for the rest of the summer if she finds out I've been fighting again and I'd _really_ like to avoid that."

The guy just beat two thugs half-dead, is _still_ wearing their blood on him, and yet he's worried about being grounded. Levi wants to say something cutting about priorities, but what leaves his mouth instead is a hoarse, "Okay."

The guy— _Eren—_ grins at him.

"Thanks, man. I appreciate it."

"Do you want a napkin or something?" Levi asks suddenly, and his face heats up when Eren cocks his head. Levi gestures towards his fist. "For the…uh. Blood."

The grin grows a notch. "Nah, I've got it," he says, then proceeds to fish out a pink handkerchief from his pocket. A pocket that belongs to the shortest shorts Levi has ever seen on another guy. They're a pale, robin-egg blue that wraps snugly around the top of his thighs. His _muscled_ thighs, Levi notes with a dry mouth, eyeing the thick curves of his upper leg and then down, past his dimpled knees and strong shins, to his feet. He's wearing white flip-flops, but that isn't what catches Levi's attention. It's his toenails. His _purple_ toenails. Purple to match the beads of the anklet on his left ankle, and the collar of his yellow, sleeveless top, and the pins in his hair.

Fuck, but it's cute.

 _He's_ cute.

It takes every molecule of self-restraint he possesses not to stare.

"Okay, so I've really got to go, but it was nice meeting you, Levi."

"Y-yeah, you too. Uh, you want me to call the cops to collect those guys back there?"

Eren's smile is all teeth as he says, arsenic-sweet, "Nah, just leave those fuckers there."

There's poison in his eyes, and the heat that's been steadily rising in the pit of Levi's stomach surges and spreads to every inch of his being, until he feels like's he's burning alive.

Eren winks at him, pops his lollipop back in his mouth, and strides away, and Levi's eyes follow him until he rounds a corner and disappears. Only then does he feel like he can breathe properly again. Only then does the fire in his gut crawl back to a simmer.

Levi hadn't know what to make of Eren Jaeger before meeting him, but now…

Now he's no more enlightened than he'd been before.

Levi remembers the way he'd thrashed the two who'd ganged up on him, going as far as to step on one of them like they were literal trash. He thinks of the red smear of blood on his knuckles, and how it clashed with the soft-bright colors of his clothes. He thinks of muscular thighs and painted toenails, of clinking jewelry and sea-storm eyes. Thinks of the lollipop that stained his lips cherry-red.

Levi thinks of little else until he gets home and his mom, exhausted from another 14-hour shift at the hospital, asks him why he didn't go to the store like he said he would and he realizes that he left the goddamn shopping bag behind.

* * *

 **XXX**

* * *

Levi steps out from Erwin's car and eyes the neon-bright billboard above the arcade with distaste.

"Your face is going to get stuck that way," Hange chirps at his side, throwing an arm over his shoulder. Levi doesn't bother trying to throw it off; he learned a long time ago that the more he struggles against their physical displays of affection the more persistent they become. It's annoying, but not half as annoying as it _can_ be.

"His face is already stuck that way," Annie mutters as she steps onto the curb. She holds her hand out, and the instant the car is locked Erwin goes to take it, entwining their fingers together. Annie leans on her tiptoes to brush a kiss against his jaw, and Erwin smiles down at her, returns the favor.

Levi looks away, feeling like he's intruding on something he shouldn't be. He often does when it comes to those two.

"Not true!" Hange is quick to defend him, pulling him forward so they can walk together. "Levi-baby has exactly three-point-five other expressions. I should know; I've documented them all."

"What's the point-five?" Annie asks.

"Well—"

"Do I _really_ need to be here?" Levi demands, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I mean, I get why you three are here—Annie and Erwin are trying to get into Armin's pants—"

"Our aim is more long-term than that," Erwin interjects.

"—and Hange is a creep who likes to watch—"

"For science!"

"—but why am _I_ here?"

"To support Annie and Erwin in their quest to bag Armin, of course!" Hange says.

"To keep Hange in line," Annie corrects.

Erwin shakes his head. "Because Armin is bringing a friend—no, not Jean, don't worry—and we don't want him to feel like a third wheel."

"Isn't that why Hange is here?"

"Moblit works here on Tuesdays," Erwin says in response.

Levi sighs, resigned. Moblit is Hange's protégé—or at least that's what Hange likes to call him, though he personally thinks _minion_ and _self-appointed guardian_ are more fitting terms. Levi has no doubt the two of them will disappear somewhere down the line, probably to take apart one of the game consoles because Hange has a fascination for dismantling and reconstructing machinery and Moblit lets them get away with everything.

"I'm not going to ditch you guys!" Hange insists.

None of them acknowledge them.

"So who's Armin bringing, if not Jean?" Levi asks, because as far as he's aware that's the only friend Armin has.

"Some guy he met at the vet clinic a few days ago. Apparently they clicked." Erwin hides it well, but Levi's known him long enough to hear the thread of apprehension in his tone. His eyes shoot to Annie's just in time to see her expression tighten before she forcibly clears it, and then he looks away.

He shares a look with Hange, who's worrying their bottom lip. They're concerned, and Levi can't help but echo it. Erwin and Annie have been crushing on Armin for _years_ , and the thought that Armin—after having never showed the slightest interest in _anyone_ despite his claim of being bisexual—would get involved with someone just when his friends _finally_ decided to stop being chicken shits and make a move… fucking sucks.

For their sake, Levi hopes the friend Armin invited is just that—a friend.

Otherwise he just might have to kill whoever the guy is and bury his body somewhere it won't be found.

"You look like you're planning someone's murder," Hange whispers is that eerily keen way of theirs.

 _Fucking mind reader,_ Levi thinks. "I'm not, though that might change in a few minutes."

Hange goes quiet as they step through the door Erwin holds open for them.

"I'll help you bury the body if it comes to that."

Levi lifts his arm to wrap around their waist and squeezes, glad that they're on the same page.

"They're here," Erwin announces loud enough to be heard over the racket of the arcade, and Levi follows his gaze across the room to a table booth. Armin is easy enough to spot—his unfortunately-styled hair is bright, though not half as eye-catching as the yellow sweater he's wearing, and Erwin and Annie make their way towards him like he's some fucking beacon of light.

Levi rolls his eyes at his friends, but allows himself to be tugged forward by Hange, who's going on and on about how _adorable_ the three of them are. Frankly, Levi thinks Erwin's narcissistic fetish for blonds with blue eyes is creepy as hell, but saying so the last time earned him a disgusting ear bite from Hange so he wisely chooses to keep his commentary to himself.

Since Annie and Erwin claim Armin's side of the booth, he and Hange take the opposite side. Levi inspects the table, then deciding it's clean enough, places his hands on it and settles in.

"It's been a while, Armin!" Hange says jovially.

"Hey, Hange. Levi."

Levi returns his nod and allows his gaze to wander to the brightly lit game floor. It's crowded, but it hasn't quite reached the point where lines have begun to form behind the games. Levi hopes it stays that way.

"I thought you were bringing a friend," Hange is saying when Levi hones back in on the conversation.

"Oh, yeah, I did. He needed to use the restroom though—"

"And now he's back," a familiar voice says, and Levi's head snaps up as a shadow falls over the table and the owner of the voice stops a mere arm's length away.

Disheveled hair pushed back by hairpins, revealing wide, bottle green eyes. Bow lips with the sheen of gloss on them. Clothes in varying shades of pastel, all of it hugging an athletic form. An anklet with sea urchin charms, and lower, toenails painted coral-pink. It's unmistakably _Eren,_ the guy who'd pummeled two homophobic thugs twice his size then asked Levi to keep quiet about it so he wouldn't get grounded. The guy who'd inadvertently caused Levi to lose $20 worth of groceries because he'd been so preoccupied with trying to get his boner down before he got home.

The guy who Levi hasn't been able to stop _thinking about_ for the past two weeks.

 _Eren_.

The cause of all his frustration looks down at him with surprise before his mouth tugs into a grin, and it takes that long for Levi to realize he said his name _out loud._

"Levi, hey! I'm glad you remember me!"

"Yeah, well," Levi mutters, looking away from those pretty eyes, "you left a pretty fucking big impression."

Eren cocks his head. "Good impression or bad impression?"

 _Amazing,_ Levi thinks, but says instead, "Terrible, actually."

Eren laughs, and Levi swears his heart skips at the sound.

"I'm Eren Jaeger," Eren introduces himself to the table at large. "Nice to meet you all."

"Nice to meet you too, Eren! I'm Zoe Hange, but just call me Hange! Them and Their pronouns, please and thank you! Also, your outfit is _cute._ "

Eren grins at them as he slides into the booth next to Levi. It's a tight fit. The booth itself is small, but because Hange is all flailing, uncoordinated limbs Levi had made sure to put as much distance between them as possible, putting him almost at the edge.

So when Eren squeezes in next to him and they end up sitting close enough that their sides touch, all Levi really needs to do is scoot over into the unoccupied space between him and Hange.

He doesn't—instead, he pretends it doesn't exist.

"Thanks," Eren tells Hange before turning to the others. "You must be Erwin and Annie, right? Armin's told me _so much_ about you."

Levi admits that he feels a bit better about his own ridiculousness when his two friends perk up like dogs offered a treat. He can almost see the cool disinterest they've been projecting melt several degrees as they both lean into Armin, pressing him between them.

Levi doesn't think he imagines the sly smile that creeps onto Armin's face, there one second and gone the next.

"Nothing bad, we hope," Erwin says, clearly fishing.

Eren shrugs, and Levi has to bite back a laugh when his two friends look like they're seriously considering torturing him for the information.

It's amusing. Two of the most reserved people he knows, dubbed the Ice King and Queen by the entire Trost High population, are losing their collective shits over a textbook-nerd with a tweed fetish.

Then again, Levi thinks when Eren shifts and their shoulders brush, maybe he shouldn't talk since pastel-loving guys who beat up other guys is apparently what does it for him.

Hange is vibrating beside him, making these impatient noises that Levi knows means they're dying to solve a mystery they've been presented with. He has a pretty good idea what that mystery is, too. He shoots them a _look_ , because despite Eren's victory he had still been the target of a hate crime, and while the guy doesn't _seem_ particularly traumatized by it, Levi won't risk mentioning it and potentially triggering him. He'll leave the decision to bring it up where it belongs—with Eren—and in the meanwhile keep a stern eye on Hange, who's too curious for their own goddamn good.

A moment passes, then Hange cocks their head and scrutinizes Levi's expression. Their gaze flickers to Eren before resettling on Levi, and then they shrug, backing down for the time being.

Sometime later, when Eren's alone and Levi's occupied with taking a shit or something, they'll probably corner Eren and try to wheedle the story out of him.

He isn't sure who he should feel sorry for more.

"So, Eren! How are you liking Trost so far?" Hange asks, propping their elbows on the table. "Where were you living before, anyway?"

"Shinganshina," Eren answers, and then he and Hange are off, discussing at length the differences between the two cities and their respective schooling experiences then sliding into more random topics, such as the migratory habits of butterflies and whether or not NASA has the right to revoke Pluto's planetary status (apparently they do, but no one has to be happy about it).

Levi speaks up when he's prompted to, but is otherwise content to listen to them talk. Much like Hange, Eren has a tendency to gesticulate when talking, and so his hands are constantly in motion—spread one moment and balled into fists the next. Sitting next to him means bearing the brunt of his movements—not that Levi exactly minds. Eren is warm, and each accidental brush of their arms and legs makes heat spark beneath his skin, starting at the point of contact and spreading everywhere until he begins to feel feverish in a way he never has before. It's unnerving. It's intoxicating. A part of him wants to pull away, give himself a moment to cool down, but there's another part, a larger one, that wants nothing more than to lean into Eren so that they're touching by default.

As much as Levi would like to claim ignorance about what the hell's going on with him, _he can't._ He knows what he feels, knows what he wants.

And given the coy looks Hange has been shooting him behind Eren's head, he isn't doing a very good job at hiding it.

* * *

 **XXX**

* * *

"I think," Eren says with a flick to his bendy straw, "we've been abandoned."

There's no point in sugarcoating it. "We have," Levi agrees, and then, because Eren's new and unaccustomed to how flaky the members of the group can sometimes be, adds, "Sorry."

"Nah, don't worry about it. Armin warned me in advance that there was a possibility he'd head out earlier. Apparently he'd been banking on Annie and Erwin getting jealous of me and whisking him off somewhere to ravage him." He pauses, and the sound of ice clinking together does as well. "I didn't expect him to leave _this_ early, though."

Levi sits back. "That little shit. I _knew_ it." At Eren's questioning look he elaborates, "Y'know how Armin likes to pretend he's some innocent fucking lamb straight out of the nativity story, right? Well, the two idiots panting after him _swears_ it isn't an act. They think the kid is a fucking saint, and good luck trying to convince them otherwise."

"Armin's going to eat them alive," Eren says with absolute certainty. Remembering the self-satisfied expression Armin had worn when Annie and Erwin had all-but smothered him to death in their jealousy, he can't quite bring himself to contest it.

Levi silently wishes his friends the best of luck—they're going to need it.

A slurping sound fills the booth as Eren finishes off his milkshake before setting the cup aside. "So. The guy who Hange ran off with—was that their boyfriend?"

Something sharp and unpleasant twists in Levi's chest at Eren's seemingly innocent question. He struggles not to react as he scrutinizes the guy for the smallest hint of disappointment or jealousy, and almost wilts in relief when he finds none. Only curiosity.

"No, Hange doesn't date," he says, almost breathless in his relief. "They're aromantic. The guy who dropped by, Moblit, is their…I don't even know, to be honest. He's some weird combination of minion and babysitter. Right now they're probably off dissembling one of the gaming consoles—Hange has a weird fascination for that shit and Moblit is her reluctant enabler."

Eren laughs, and it's such an attractive sound that Levi finds himself slightly transfixed.

"I think I'm going to really love it here," he admits, grinning across the table at Levi. "In the town I lived in before everyone was so _boring._ Like little cutout people, y'know? Those who deviated from the norm weren't really accepted _or_ treated well. It was nothing like _this_. _"_ He makes a vague, sweeping motion with hands.

Eren's grin doesn't fade, but Levi hears the undercurrent of bitterness in his tone, sees the way his eyes darken in a way that has nothing to do with the shadows cast by the group of people walking past.

He has a feel he just stumbled upon a—if not _the—_ reason behind Eren's sudden move to Trost.

"Try not to get your hopes up," Levi says carefully. "Trost is more liberal than most of the cities on the East Coast but shit stains exist here as they do everywhere else. As you already know," he adds, thinking of the night they first met.

"True," Eren concedes. "But I'm going to go with my gut instinct here and say it's probably still a step up. But let's talk about something else—this topic is depressing as hell." His gaze sweeps around the arcade, lingering on the ice hockey table and DDR machine before settling on the racing simulators. "Want to play some games? I mean, might as well, right, since we're already here."

Levi grabs his empty water bottle and rises from the booth in in lieu of answering. On his way to game floor he tosses the bottle into an overflowing recycling bin, glancing at Eren as he falls into step beside him. They exchange cash for arcade coins at an old, rundown machine that sputters and chokes the coins out, then make their way towards the racing simulators. Since they're still being used by a couple of kids, they stand off to the side and wait.

Luckily it doesn't take too long for the kids to get bored and scamper off.

"Ready to lose?" Eren teases as he claims the left seat.

After depositing two coins into the machine, Levi slides into the right one. He eyes the worn steering wheel warily before placing his hands over it, deliberately not thinking about the many filthy hands that have come into contact with it before him. Honestly, it takes everything he has not to retrieve the bottle of antibacterial soap he always carries with him and disinfect his hands then and there. Levi takes a measured breath before refocusing his attention on Eren, because fuck if he doesn't need a distraction right now.

"It's cute how you think that's even a remote possibility," he shoots back, more to get a rise out of the guy than anything, and Eren doesn't disappoint, baring his teeth at Levi in a way that makes his stomach clench.

"I'll show you cute," is Eren's retort before he turns to face the large, flashing screen before them, now counting down from five.

Eren's features are awash in various hues of light, and Levi almost strains something as he tears his eyes away from the beautiful play of colors on his skin.

He tightens his grip on the wheel and thinks, _you are already are._

* * *

 **XXX**

* * *

They play six rounds on the racing simulator, and only because a bunch of brats made a stink about them hogging the game. They're tied at three wins each, something that Eren looks disgruntled about until he realizes the air hockey table's cleared out and all but drags Levi to it.

"I never did thank you again for not snitching on me that night," Eren says as he feeds coins into the machine. "Justified or not, my mom would have _freaked_ if she found out I'd gotten into another fight. Hell, my sister, too. She's decided to give this place the benefit of the doubt for the time being but the second she stops I'll never be able to go outside unaccompanied again." He rolls his eyes as he grabs the red goalie and bends over the table.

Levi mirrors his stance and waits for the puck to be released.

"It's fine. Those fucktards deserved everything they got," he says, earning himself another sharp grin.

Thing is, Levi can't even pretend not to understand what Eren means. Trost may be more progressive than most other cities, but even here it's not very common to see guys dressed the way Eren is—proven by the attention he receives even now, some of which is hostile but, for the most part, seems more curious than anything. While Eren is clearly used to it, Levi _isn't_ , and finds himself catching gazes left and right and _glaring_ until the impolite shits look away.

Levi doesn't miss that it's the second time Eren's mentioned fighting, but before he can question him about it the puck shoots out onto the table and then the entirety of his focus is on protecting his goal and attacking when he can. He loses the first game, and pointedly ignores the smug look tossed his way. He tightens his grip on the goalie, sets his hand on the rim of the table, and waits. He's going to wipe that arrogant grin off Eren's stupidly gorgeous face if it kills him.

They manage four games before guilt sets in and they leave to give the couple waiting patiently behind them a turn. They tackle the basketball hoops next, followed by a new 3D shooting game, before making their way to the bowling lanes. Ten minutes of that, and then Levi follows Eren to a row of claw cranes, of which he proclaims to suck at then proceeds to prove just that.

"You're such a jerk," Eren accuses him after his eighth failed attempt. Levi is standing off to the side, failing to hide his snickers because Eren hadn't been joking when he claimed to be terrible at it. Even the toys that are unencumbered and sit at the top of the hoard manage to elude him. It's _hilarious._

"Why don't _you_ try it then," Eren eventually snaps at him. It makes Levi want to laugh that much more because he'd so graciously accepted his loss at the air hockey table and yet here he was now, spitting mad because he couldn't win a teddy bear that was practically _begging_ to be taken.

Levi smirks at him, just to further rile him up, and takes his place in front of the machine.

"Watch and learn," he tosses over his shoulder, huffing a laugh when Eren grumbles something under his breath.

Levi deposits money into the machine and lightly grips the joystick. He zeroes in on the bear Eren had been aiming for, a light purple atrocity that Levi personally wouldn't be caught dead owning, and angles the swaying, metal-rusted claw over it. After spending a few moments adjusting it, tilting his head to ensure it's at the right angle, he hits the trigger and watches it descend. With no difficulty at all the claw closes over the bear, lifts it into the air, and drops it into the chute.

There's a long moment of silence, and then: "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

Levi barks a laugh as he goes to retrieve the bear from the hatch.

"Here," he says, pushing the ugly thing into Eren's hands.

Eren looks down in surprise. "You're giving it to me?"

Levi stuffs his hands in his pockets, eyes sliding off to the side. "Well you wanted it, right?" It takes him a moment to realize the implications of what he said, so he hastily tacks on, "Though why you would is beyond me—it's ugly as shit."

"It's not," Eren argues, but there's no heat in his tone.

Levi glances up at him, unable to stop himself, and something flutters wildly in his chest at the way Eren is looking him—eyes large and intent and a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. Levi scowls, hating how nervous he suddenly feels, and jerks his head to the side, towards the entrance.

"I'm out of coins," he says gruffly, hands curling in his pockets. "Want to head out now?"

Eren's smile widens. He looks down at the bear and hugs it to his chest.

"Sure."

* * *

 **XXX**

* * *

They talk as they walk, and in unspoken agreement keep the conversation topics light. Levi learns that Eren veers off track almost as easily as Hange does, but while he usually steers Hange back in the right direction—because otherwise they'd talk in circles and never get anywhere—he's surprisingly okay with listening to Eren discuss the history of ice cream one moment and his crazy childhood escapades the next.

More than okay, if he's being honest with himself, because Eren is _fascinating_ to both listen to and watch. He grins when he's pleased and smirks when he's smug and and cocks his head like a bird when he's confused. His hands are constantly moving, slicing the air one moment and clasped together the next. He's opinionated and straightforward, has absolutely no brain-to-mouth filter to speak of, and he's _loud_ when he forgets himself _,_ almost on par with Hange, and Levi is so fucking endeared by him it's _insane_. How could he not be, though, when Eren hangs on his every damn word like he's trying to brand it all to memory? When he's so stubbornly considerate of him, careful to never talk over him or seize control of the conversation regardless how passionate he is about the discussion, always prodding Levi to talk when he's been quiet for too long?

Eren is _vibrant_ , all floppy hair and bright eyes and toothy smile, pastel and trinkets and gloss, and Levi watches him as they walk, incapable of looking away. Beneath the hazy sun Eren's hair is amber and his skin is gold. Dappled shadows from the trees overhead dance over his summer clothes. Every so often a gentle breeze sweeps past that ruffles his hair, teasing it further into windswept chaos, and with every step he takes the jewelry that adorns his wrists and ankle tinkles and clinks.

Eren is easily the most gorgeous person Levi has ever met, and he doesn't need the voice in his head (that sounds suspiciously like Hange) to tell him that he's doomed.

* * *

 **XXX**

* * *

"Okay, but who doesn't listen to music with lyrics?" Eren demands, side-eyeing Levi like he's a never-before-seen animal at the zoo.

"I do listen to—"

"Lyrics in foreign languages that you _can't understand_ do not count, Levi," Eren interjects, which is rude as fuck, but Levi's too busy being charmed by the way he's frowning to call him out on it.

"Lyrics are _distracting_ ," he says, and tries to think of how to explain it in a way Eren can understand.  
"They just…get in the way. I mean—look. Haven't you ever listened to a song and felt one way, only to realize that the lyrics are telling a completely different story? It's annoying as fuck, isn't it? I'd rather interpret a song my own way than whichever way the artist is _telling me_ I should. Otherwise what's the fucking point?"

Eren blinks at him, obviously thinking his words over, and then to Levi's relief, slowly begins to nod.

"Said like that, yeah, I guess that makes sense. Sort of. I still think it's weird, though. No offense."

"None taken," Levi says dryly.

"I really pegged you wrong, though," Eren continues as they turn a corner onto Laple Street, putting them exactly six blocks away from home. "I thought you'd be into screamo and death metal for sure."

"Don't stereotype me."

"Sorry! I know I shouldn't have, but, well, you _do_ fit the stereotype with all the piercings and tattoos and," he gestures vaguely at Levi and wrinkles his nose, "black."

Despite himself, Levi cracks a smile. "Got something against black?"

Eren shrugs, sheepish. "It's so…dark." At Levi's snort he nudges him in the side hard enough that Levi almost stumbles and adds, "And boring. _Really_ boring. Not cute at all."

"Not everyone strives to look as cute as you," Levi says wryly without thinking, and it takes Eren going quiet at his side for him to realize what he just said and _shit_ —

"True," Eren says after a long moment, and Levi doesn't dare look at him but there's a smile in his voice that makes the fluttering sensation from earlier grow tenfold.

 _You're an idiot,_ he thinks to himself, because here he is being let off the hook and feeling _disappointed_ about it. He's also a coward because instead of pursuing it he changes the subject.

"So what—"

" _Fucking fags_ ," someone in front of them snarls, and Levi's head snaps up in time to see an older man—white, late fifties or sixties, and ugly as _fuck_ —glowering at them from the far side of a car before pulling it open and ducking inside. Before Levi can even _think_ to respond his ears fill with the sound of a door slamming shut and a shitty engine revving, and then the car is peeling away and hurling down the empty street.

Levi unclenches his jaw and takes a moment to just _breathe_ because if he doesn't calm the fuck down he's going to do something he'll regret—like chase that motherfucking car down and pelt a brick into the rear windshield. He visualizes the number ten in his head and breathes in time with his mental countdown until he can actually _feel_ the rage bleed out of him with his every exhale.

"Fucking shit stain," he grits out before huffing and turning to Eren, who he's ashamed to admit he almost forgets about.

"Oi, Eren? Are you oka—" He looks at him and stops.

One glance is enough to tell him that Eren is the furthest thing from okay.

There's murder in his eyes, in the clench of jaw, in the rigid way he's wound, limbs locked like he's willing himself not do what Levi himself had wanted. Only Levi's pretty damn sure that the imagined brick is being lobbed at that shitty excuse for a person's head instead of his window.

He's frozen in his anger because there's no _outlet_ for it, the instigant long gone, and Levi understands that helpless rage, that itch beneath the skin that begs for violence, for retribution. Over the years he's gotten good at muting it until it's almost ignorable, but Eren clearly hasn't figured out how.

So Levi does what his friends have always done when he's been pushed to the brink—he grips Eren's forearm, hard enough to feel but not to hurt, and drags his hand down the length of his arm until his fingers encircle his wrist. He repeats the process, touch unhurried and firm, until Eren takes a breath, and then another, seeming unable to let it go. Levi persists until Eren does, his pent-up breath leaving him in a shuddering rush. Slowly, slowly, he unwinds.

"Sorry," he says, voice thick. "I have…issues with anger, sometimes."

"No kidding," Levi mutters, tugging at Eren's arm until the guy follows him out from the center of the sidewalk and under the awning of a closed shop front. "To be fair, so do I."

Eren tries to smile but doesn't quite manage it. He folds his arms over his bear and looks toward the street. "Yeah? Doesn't look it."

"Yeah, well, I have therapy to thank for that," Levi admits, dragging his hand through his hair. "Trust me, I wanted to beat the shit out of that old fuck probably as much as you did, but I have an arsenal of techniques for controlling anger under my belt for shitty situations like this."

Eren glances at him. "Like what?"

"Timed breathing, self-distancing, visualization. Reminding myself that it's just not fucking worth it, because pathetic shits like that exist everywhere and I have better things to do with my time than trying to fight battles I'm never gonna win." He pauses, then says, just to stop Eren from looking so goddamn miserable, "And cleaning, when I can. Cleaning _really_ helps, if you like that sort of thing."

Some of the shadows in his eyes fade. "Does anyone actually _like_ to clean?"

Levi gives a self-deprecating smile.

"Seriously?" A shake of his head. "I bet your parents _adore_ you."

That prompts a huff of laughter from Levi. "Parent," he corrects. "It's just me and my mom. And I'm pretty sure I drive her crazy because of it, to be honest. She's a fucking pig," he says in response to Eren's questioning look. Relief swells in him when Eren looks scandalized but still manages to smile.

Reluctantly, Levi withdraws his hand from Eren's arm and tells himself that it's only wishful thinking on his part that makes him misread the flicker in his eyes for disappointment. He steps away.

They leave the shade of the awning and resume their walk.

"Hey, Levi?" Eren says when they've reached the end of the block. He's been quiet until now, clearly lost in thought.

"Yeah?"

"Does the…does the whole therapy thing, like, actually work?" he asks, playing with the ears of his bear—which he's named _Levi II,_ the little shit—rather than looking at him.

"Not for everyone," Levi answers slowly, "but it worked for me and I was…pretty bad." Understatement of the century. "You get out what you put in. I mean, it can be tedious as fuck, and so goddamn frustrating, but…but if you _want_ it to work and you work with the people trying to help, then yeah, it should."

The traffic light turns red, and they cross the street.

"That's why we moved here, y'know," Eren says when they're halfway down the next block. "I mean, there was other stuff too, but that was the main reason. I just kept getting into fights. I never _started_ them or anything, and I usually got off the hook because the people who were always instigating shit were obviously homophobic as fuck, and backwater town or not, hate crimes are still illegal, y'know? But it—it was still taking a toll. On everyone. So we left."

He sighs and rests his chin atop the bear's head, keeping his gaze averted. "I can't say that therapy or whatever would have prevented any of that because it wouldn't have. Most of the time I was just defending myself. But there were times where I definitely could have just…walked away, y'know? But I didn't. I _couldn't._ Someone would look at me the wrong way or say the wrong thing and I'd provoke them into swinging first, just to give me a reason to beat the shit out of them and an excuse not to get in trouble. That's pretty fucked up, isn't it?"

It was, but Levi understood it. That had been him, before his mom hid every device he owned, dragged his ass to a counseling center, and flat out told him that if he didn't get his shit together she'd donate the lot. And he'd done it—not because of his mom's threats, though they'd certainly helped, but because he'd landed Dr. Petra Ral as a therapist, who was arguably the most earnest person alive. It had been fucking impossible to treat someone that good like shit, so he'd tried ignoring her instead. But Petra had a way of looking at him—it wasn't disappointment, that Levi couldn't give two shits about. Rather, it was like she _knew_ he could be better and was content to wait for him to figure that out for himself. She'd been so goddamn patient with him, even when Levi hadn't deserved it, and before he'd known it the year was over and his therapy sessions with it and he was…not less angry, exactly, but better at dealing with it than he'd been before.

"I get it," Levi says, and then, "if you want, I can dig up the business card of my old therapist. She's...really good."

"I—" He pauses, then takes a steadying breath. "Yeah, okay. Thanks."

Levi nudges his shoulder, and ducks his head to hide a smile when Eren nudges back.

* * *

 **XXX**

* * *

"Sorry about that," Eren says, pocketing his phone. "My sister wanted to make sure I was alright."

"Mikasa, right?"

Eren smiles at him like he's pleased he remembers. "Yeah. She's _really_ protective. Not that I don't get it," he gestures to himself, or more specifically, what he's wearing, "but I'm totally capable of handling myself. Not that she cares."

Levi cringes inwardly at the thought. Kuchel has never been a very domineering parent—as long as Levi texts her every so often to let her know where he is, and doesn't do anything to land him in the hospital or a prison cell, she doesn't really care what he gets up to. But then, aside from the whole fighting thing when he was younger, Levi's never really given her cause not to trust him.

He wonders if there's a reason behind Eren's family's protectiveness, but doesn't ask.

"Do you not get along with her?" Levi asks as they turn a corner, putting both their houses in plain sight. "Your sister, I mean."

Eren twists his lips as he considers the question. "No, I do. She can be overbearing sometimes, but when she's not acting like my mother we actually get along great. This probably sounds kinda pathetic, but she's the closest thing I have to a best friend. Like, I can count on her for anything, y'know?"

Levi's thoughts immediately turn to Erwin and Hange.

"Yeah," he says, because he does. "Is she older?"

"Nah, we're the same age. She's adopted."

"Ah."

"Yup," he says, popping the _p_ in a way that Levi can't help but find fucking adorable. "She bought me this, actually." He lifts his wrist and shakes it, jingling the bangles there. They sparkle as they catch on the sunlight. "She feeds my obsession with cute shit even more than I do."

Levi takes a breath and reaches out before he can stop himself. His fingers glide over the silver hoops. "She has good taste. They…suit you."

"Thanks," Eren says, eyes locked on Levi's hand.

They walk to the edge of Levi's rain-worn fence (which, he reminds himself, needs to be repainted sometime soon) , stopping at the opening of the strip between their houses. Eren's entrance gate is a few yards away, and Levi steps forward, obstructing Eren's view of it as if that will somehow make him forget it's there.

"So," Eren starts, fiddling with the bear and rocking to the balls of his feet.

"So," Levi repeats, and promptly wishes he didn't because he sounds _stupid_.

But it makes Eren laugh, so he can't bring himself to regret it too much.

"We should hang out again tomorrow," Eren says after a moment . He's looking up at Levi expectantly, eyes wide and determined, and Levi thinks he can get lost in them, if he lets himself. Could probably get lost in them even if he doesn't.

Levi clears his throat and stares at a point over Eren's shoulder, because the longer he looks at Eren's face the stronger his bubbling urge to kiss him grows.

"Yeah, sure." He hopes he doesn't sound as eager as he feels.

"Anywhere in mind?"

Levi's response is immediate. "Do you skate? Because there's a skating rink about half a mile from the arcade. If that's okay. We can do something else if you'd rather not—"

"No, that sounds good," Eren thankfully cuts him off. A brush of fingers against his wrist makes Levi look up just in time to catch him taking a careful breath before saying in a rush, "So it's a date then, I guess."

Levi's heart is pounding, drowning out almost everything else. He swallows and takes the hand that's gently tracing patterns on his wrist into his own. Squeezes, and tries not to smile like an idiot when Eren squeezes back.

"Yeah, I guess so," he says, losing the battle when Eren interlaces their fingers.

The overhead sun has nothing on the beaming smile turned down at him. Levi feels blinded by it, and barely has time to blink before Eren bends low and places a sticky kiss against his cheek.

"Sorry," he singsongs, not sounding very sorry at all, and with a final, pleased look at Levi, moves past him and unlocks the gate.

The gate's still closing when he says, "Oh crap, I don't have your number!" He pulls out a pink phone. "Give me a sec…okay, I'm ready, what is it?"

Dazedly, Levi rattles it off and watches Eren tap it in. He feels his phone vibrate against his thigh a moment later.

"You got that? Great! Talk to you later, Levi!"

And then he's off, phone in one and bear in the other as he jogs towards his door. He turns once he's on the porch, just long enough to toss a wink over his shoulder that makes Levi's insides turn to liquid, then opens the door and disappears inside.

Once the door is shut Levi lowers himself to a crouch and buries his face in his hands.

"Fuck," he says. His face is burning, most of the heat isolated to the sticky, mouth-shaped spot on his cheek. His heart is beating against his ribcage, blood rushing with it.

Whatever it is Levi's gotten himself into now, he has a feeling he's in _way_ over his head.

He should probably be more worried about it than he is.

* * *

 **XXX**

* * *

Kuchel is half-asleep on the kitchen table when he gets home, face buried in the crook of her arms as what looks to be her second cup of coffee, gently steaming, sits dangerously close to her head. Levi pushes both cups far enough away that they're not in danger of being knocked over and runs a gentle hand over her hair.

"Hey, baby," she murmurs, voice muffled. It takes her a moment, but eventually she sighs and sits up. "Have fun with your fri—" she yawns. "Sorry. Friends?"

"Yeah, I guess," Levi says eyeing the bags under her eyes. "You have off the rest of the week, right?"

His mom smiles up at him blearily. "Mm. Five whole days off. To think that one day I'd find undisturbed sleep more appealing than sex."

"Gross, woman," Levi says, nose wrinkling, and turns to pull open the fridge. The rush of cold air that hits him feels amazing against his sun-warmed skin. A beat, and then he pokes his entire head in.

Kuchel laughs, and her chair grates against the floor as she pushes herself to her feet. "Let me get started on dinner while I still have the energy to move. Did you get the groceries?"

Levi's about to tell her that he can handle dinner on his own when her question registers and he freezes.

"Fuck," he says into the fridge. He _knew_ he was forgetting something.

"You forgot? Well, nothing we can do about it now, unless you feel like going out again." Levi stays silent. "That's fine. I'm pretty sure we have enough for a stir fry. Take out whatever you think we'll need."

Levi does, and places everything on the table while his mom rummages through the cabinets.

"Sorry," he mutters while her back is turned, because Kuchel works hard and honestly doesn't ask much of him and the fucking least he can do is remember to bring groceries so she can eat something that isn't day-old rice and whatever vegetables aren't spoiled.

"Hm? Oh, don't even worry about it, hun—I'm actually a little relieved. This at least is easy to make. Okay, so bad news is that we're out of canned chicken, but good news is that I think there's still cold cuts left. Check for me?"

Levi pulls out the bottom compartment of the fridge. "We've got turkey."

"Perfect.

Twenty minutes later, they're sitting down to eat.

"So," Kuchel says when half her bowl is empty, "I think this is something like the second time in as many weeks that you've forgotten to buy groceries? Which isn't like you at all, hence my need to bring it up." She pauses to take a sip of her water, eyeing the way Levi's sinking into his seat over the rim of her cup. "Well now. Is it a _boy,_ Levi?"

"You are so _embarrassing_ ," Levi gripes before shoveling a forkful into his mouth.

Kuchel's eyes light up. "It is! Who is it?"

Levi thinks about not answering, but his mom is a fucking bloodhound when it comes to shit like this and she'll just bug him until he cracks, which he always does just to get her off his back.

He mutters Eren's name.

"Eren Jaeger," she enunciates slowly. "Oh! You mean Carla's son. The one with the," she makes a vague gesture with her fork, "pink and stuff."

Levi snorts despite himself, and Kuchel's grin widens. "So that's your type, huh?"

"I don't have a type."

" _Everyone_ has a type," she says dismissively, and then, "is that why you forgot to get the groceries? You were hanging out with him?"

Levi drums his fingers against the tabletop and stares pointedly at his half-eaten bowl. "Maybe."

"Did you ask him out?"

"…Yeah."

"Given the sappy ass smile you're wearing, I'm going to go out a limb here and assume he said yes."

Levi wipes his expression clean and flings a pea at her, and she bats it away with another laugh.

"So tell me about him," she says, setting her fork down. "There's got to be something special about the kid to make you look like _that._ "

Levi has no idea what _that_ looks like, because as far as he can tell his face is blank, but Kuchel is waiting patiently for an answer, her eyes soft and fond, and even though he scowls and stabs at his food more forcefully than necessary, he finds himself telling her everything.

And then some.

* * *

 **The End**

* * *

 **A/N:** Welp, I hope that turned out okay, haha. Thanks so much for reading, everyone! Comments are super appreciated, as always!


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